Sins Of the Father
by Rachelle Ryan
Summary: We all know what Jonathan Kent thinks of Lex. What would make him change his mind? And what would he do once he did?
1. Prologue (a)

Disclaimer: Whoever produces Smallville is the owner of Clark, Jonathan Kent, Lex, Lionel Luthor, and any of the other characters that are on that show. Me, I only own the figments of my imagination that I bring to life in this story.  
  
Summary: We all know what Jonathan Kent thinks of Lex. What would make him change his mind?  
  
Dedication: I hate bigots. I mean I think they are the scum of the earth. The only people who I believe are on par are child abusers. So, I'm dedicating this to all those victims of abuse out there. To the victims of hate crimes and the victims that are too young to fight back.  
  
  
  
Sins Of the Father  
  
Prologue: Jonathan  
  
I couldn't sleep. Something had been bothering me ever since Earl had taken Clark's fieldtrip hostage. Giving up I pushed the covers back. Martha mumbled and rolled over in her sleep. Slipping my feet into my slippers I considered what to do, maybe a glass of milk will help. I wrapped my robe around me and headed down stairs. Half way between the sink and the refrigerator it hits me. I know what is bothering me. I have become my father.  
  
When I was Clark's age I had a friend named Tom Simpson. My dad would berate him say he was a cheat and a liar. That he was a bad influence and I shouldn't hang around with him. I hated it when he'd say those things especially when he'd call him a "nigger". I loved my father but I couldn't stand the way he would treat Tom just because of the color of his skin. I always thought that his prejudice was stupid. How could Tom pick his parents? Now I see that I have been making the same mistake with Clark. How could Lex pick his father? How can I tell that Lex is a bad influence just because of his last name?  
  
Looking back on all the times that Lex had come over I recognized the look in his eyes as the same one that had been in Tom's. A mix of hurt and resignation, hurt for being judged and resignation because it happened so often. Suddenly I understood Lex. He is just a boy with a father who has to put up with ridicule and hate just as Tom did. My legs would no longer support me. I found myself sinking to the floor. I had believed so strongly in my conviction that Lex was just like his father, a cold heartless bastard, that until Lex risked his life to save those kids I couldn't see what I was doing but now I couldn't deny it. I had been wrong just like my father had been wrong and I should have known better. I should have known better, the sins of the father have nothing to do with the son. How could I take back the words? How could I make this right?  
  
I had seen the way that Lionel Luthor treated his son and if it had been anyone one else I would have been disgusted but at the time I remember thinking that Lex deserved the cold heartless treatment. I now felt disgust not only with Lionel Luthor but also with myself. How could any parent treat their son that way? How could I not care? If Lex were younger I'd say what Lionel did was child abuse but. no it was child abuse. Lex is still a child maybe only a man-child but still a child who wishes for his parent's love and acceptance. Lionel only gave Lex scorn and contempt for his concern for the lives of the hostages. He hadn't even seemed to care when Lex was sealed in the factory other than the fact that he would be losing his heir. Suddenly I can see the future, with the treatment from his father and the help from people like me Lex would become his father. Who wouldn't? If everyone treated you as if you were the scum of the earth wouldn't you become just that to get even? Conviction filled my heart I can't let this happen. I had almost become my father I won't let Lex be driven into becoming his. The future is not set in stone. Clark's brush with that psychic proved that if anything. Lex didn't have to turn out like his father and maybe this way I can keep Clark from having to face what Lex and I are facing right now. 


	2. Prologue (b)

Prologue (b): Lex  
  
Twirling the tumbler of whiskey around I watched the patterns of light playing on the wall. I'm thinking and I'm being especially morose at the moment. My father used me to get rid of the cameras. He used me. Just like he's done hundreds of times before. He didn't tell me about level three, he sealed me in knowing I'd die, he used me to get rid of the press, he didn't care about the hostages, he didn't care about me. That's what it all boils down to I guess. He doesn't care. I watched Clark and his family after he came out of the factory. His father grabbed him in a hug and his mother cried. My father hugged me yes but with just the right amount of room and stiffness to let me know he still disapproved. Clark's parents loved him and were happy that he was safe. My father wouldn't have cared less other than the fact that he would have to play the part of grieving father for the next year or so. I should be jealous of Clark. I should just about hate him. The thing is I am jealous but I don't hate him. I am glad for him. I see the love his father has for him in Jonathon's eyes and I'm glad. I told Clark once he was like the little brother I never had and I wasn't lying. When I was younger I'd dream of having a younger brother, someone to play with some one who wouldn't call me a freak some one who would save me. Some one who would save me for what seems to be my destiny as another cold Luthor.  
  
It never happened. I knocked back the last of the whiskey. My father wouldn't allow it. He said one child was enough. Mother argued for a while but she gave up after a few years. Pouring myself another drink I reached for the spot in my heart belonging to my mother. My memories of her warm me in ways that mere liquor can't begin to. She was so kind so gentle I loved her. I remember the way she used to hold me. The way she used to play games with me. She was always smiling, making jokes. I remember how everything changed when she died.  
  
She died when I was nine. I remember watching as they lowered the grave into the ground and wanting to cry but I couldn't, my father was watching. I wanted to cry so badly but if I had I knew what it would mean. Lionel was never one to tolerate weakness; he never believed "he's just a child" was a good excuse. So I didn't cry. I pent up all my emotions from then on playing the little puppet for my father hoping that if I did it he would love me. That also never happened.  
  
I glanced at the clock it read 2:37. I sighed. I'm going to have to go in early tomorrow to deal with all the crap that the hostage situation generated. I got up and stumbled towards my bedroom. The hostages. Reaching out to catch myself on the doorframe I considered how panicked I was when I found out Clark was one of them. I had been scared before but when I learned that Clark was one of them I almost flew to the factory. I thought that Earl was really crazy and I was afraid he would… I don't know what I was afraid he'd do but I knew I couldn't let anything happen to Clark. It was like he was really my brother. Shaking off those thoughts I flopped onto my bed not even bothering to get undressed. He's not really my brother no matter how much I wish he was. As I closed my eyes I couldn't help but wish that he were. 


	3. Chapter 1: Jonathan

Chapter 1: Jonathan  
  
I feel like a blind man who's suddenly regained his sight. I watch Clark talk to Lex Luthor over the rim of my coffee mug. I can see all the little signs I missed before. I see the wary way Clark glances in my direction every few minutes checking that I'm not going to attack his friend and the resigned look in Lex's eyes when he happens to look my way. I see the tense set to Martha's shoulders and the way that Lex's face lights up whenever she smiles at him. I feel my heart ache as I recognize the yearning for love and attention in his eyes. I wonder what sort of trouble, what outrageous things that he has done to try and gain his father's attention. I remember some of my more disastrous escapades. They were all I cry for the attention of a father too busy with the farm too concerned with keeping his land to pay much attention to his own son. In all of the times that Lex has come over to our house I've never said hello. I've never treated Lex as though he were Clark's friend. I've pretty much ignored him. I haven't said anything this morning either, not for the same reasons as before. Now I stay silent because I don't know what to say. It has only been a few moments since Lex arrived but finally I realize it will be a lot harder to say anything if I keep quiet much longer.  
  
I try to come up with something in my head that will make all of my slights and insults disappear. Nothing comes to mind. I settle for a simple, "Hello Lex," instead. Immediately Clark shifts position subtlety. I'd be surprised if he realized he was doing it. I know a lot about body language from my years as a football player and I can see what Clark's doing even if he doesn't. He's changed his positioning so he can easily protect Lex if it comes to a fight. I can also see that Lex has moved into a position where he can easily back up Clark, protecting the protector. His eyes are wary prepared for an attack and I can feel my heart ach for him. It hurts but I know I have to take this slow. Too much at once and both boys will be running for cover. Lex is like a skittish colt, so eager for love but afraid of being ridden. I can't rush this. God it hurts to know I can't just tell him I was wrong. That I was all-wrong and that I hate the way I've treated him. That he isn't evil just because his name is Luthor, I don't hate him, I respect him for what he did to save those kids. I can't say any of it. Lex has been hurt too badly for him to believe just words and I can't say as I blame him. I almost sigh but was able to keep that obvious sign of frustration from escaping. "Clark you can have the afternoon off to goof off with Lex." The smile that lit Clark's face was so bright that for a moment I thought I'd go blind but Lex kept his wary expression. Martha looked quizzically at me as Clark dragged Lex out the door. I shook my head. I don't want to answer her questions right now though I know she'll drag it out of me eventually.  
  
I bring the paper up pretending to read it but I'm not seeing the words. Instead I'm seeing the look on Lex's face last night. The one he wore when he was determined to save my son. If he was willing to risk his life for Clark's and all those other kids than I can certainly risk my pride to show him his life isn't already pre-packaged. His fate hasn't been set in stone and I'm sure with a little love and friendship that the curse of the Luthor's can be kept away. Another image floats to the surface, the cold uncaring expression on Lionel Luthor's face. The consequences if I failed would not one be the ruin of a basically good human being but it would be letting that bastard win. I could tell that Lex was just a game piece to him, something easily replaced, and something he wouldn't think twice about sacrificing to save his own ass. If Lionel Luthor wanted to play games with his son's life I was determined to make sure that it was a game that self- serving ass lost. 


	4. Chapter 2: Lex

Chapter 2: Lex  
  
It was late but I couldn't sleep. My mind just refused to shut off. I kept going round in circles trying to hash everything out. I was sitting in the study where just a few nights ago I had drunken myself to sleep. This time I didn't want to resort to such drastic measures. However I was pretty close to breaking down and taking a sleeping pill. The worries and pains of the week had taken their toll on me. They had made me dead tired but at the same time they were what was keeping me awake. How could I sleep when all of my instincts are screaming at me warning me something is up with Clark's father? Jonathan Kent has always treated me like an adversary. Like a bug he'd like to squash. But lately he's been going out of his way to treat me like… like a human being. Oh, he hasn't done anything obvious just a lot of little things like acknowledging that I'm actually in a room. Whatever it is it's made my life easier, I don't feel like I'm under review every minute I step into the Kent household. Still I can't help but question it. I've learned that niceness usually comes with a price tag. Only that doesn't make much sense in Jonathan's case. The one time I did offer to pay to make his problems go away he turned me down flat. Still I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.  
  
There were some repercussions at the plant as a result of Earl's hijacking but nothing huge. My father called me to supposedly check up but I knew it was his way of telling me that he didn't trust me. Nether the less the rest of the world doesn't seem to notice any different and other than the strangeness with Clark's father life has gone on as normal or as normal as life gets in Smallville. I swear that this town has got to be the weirdest in the world. That friend of Clark's Chloe has it right with her wall of weird, which brings me back to Clark. He's a puzzle that I just can't help but try and solve. It's like he's really my brother and I'm reading his diary or at least trying to pick the lock. It's a secret and I've made it my business to know everything about everybody. My psychologist thinks it's a form of getting control. That I dig because when I was a child I had no control and I still feel like I don't. It makes a lot of sense but I can't break myself of the habit, it's saved me too many times. On the line of life saving so has Clark.  
  
He drives me nuts. It must me a Kent skill, driving people nuts. His father is doing a fair job of it himself. "Ugh." I groaned. Giving up on trying to figure out the mysteries of the universe I grabbed my coat. The only way this mystery was going to be solved was for me to ask. Bluntness is not my usual style but in this case I felt that straightforward was probably best. Hell, it might even catch him off guard and he'll actually answer. I might as well try or I'm not going to be getting any beauty sleep any time soon. 


	5. Chapter 3: Jonathan

Chapter 3: Jonathan  
  
Of all the nights for Clark to be at a friend's house! Grunting I tried twisting it from another angle. One of the pipes that led to the house had burst shortly after Clark had left for Pete's. We, Martha and I, were able to shut the water off but after fixing the break no amount of leverage could get the valve to turn again. It had rusted or bent and was now damn near impossible to open. Martha had given up and gone to bed threatening me that if she couldn't take a bath in the morning I was going to be sleeping in Clark's Fortress of Solitude. Her nerves had been frayed earlier when she was doing dishes then suddenly Old Faithful erupted in our kitchen. I couldn't entirely blame her but the idea of sleeping in the barn held the same appeal that it would to any grown modern American male. 0 to none. Straw poking you in the back and other more delicate parts? No thanks. Clark wasn't due back till Sunday another full day away and while Martha is a loving and forgiving wife I know she won't hesitate to follow through with her threat. So here I was working on the damn pipe.  
  
Out of breath I slumped to the ground next to the pipeline I had been working on for, glancing at my watch, over six hours. I was covered in sweat and dirt and just about resigned to falling asleep right on the patch of floor I was resting on. The muscles in my arms were screaming at me and my back was…well, there were no words. I was laying propped up against the pipe I'd been fighting for the last few hours looking around at nothing in particular too tired to get up and suddenly I was chuckling, for no reason at all. The whole thing just seemed so damn funny. Soon I was laughing so hard my sides hurt and I was rubbing my dirt-covered hand into one side of my face as tears leaked out of my eyes.  
  
So I was sitting there spread-eagled laughing like a lunatic when Lex Luthor walked in. I tried to stop laughing but his sudden arrival just made me laugh harder and the puzzled look on his face only added to my fit of laughter. I admit I looked a sight but Lex didn't look much better. He'd charged in looking ready to do battle with the devil and had all of his determination blown out of the water by the sight of me. Now he looked confused and a bit concerned like he was considering calling for the men with the white coats. Although I found that even funnier I was finally able to cut off my laughter. Still looking anxious Lex glanced around probably trying to figure out what was so funny then turned back to me. "What's so funny?" I almost started up again. As it was a couple bit off sniggers were able to escape. Taking some deep breaths I was able to calm down somewhat.  
  
A smile dancing on my lips I shrugged. "I don't know exactly what set me off but it never hurts to have a good laugh." He seemed to consider that. I could tell though he was still confused. Sighing the last of my humor drained from me. "Why are you here Lex? I doubt it's a social call. It's," I glanced at my watch again. "One o'clock in the morning. Even if Clark was here he'd be asleep." I gave Lex my best parental stare. The one I reserve for when Clark is playing innocent. He calls it my "do-you-really-think-I'm- that-stupid" stare. It was automatic I didn't really expect it to have an effect but surprisingly Lex's face took on the same contrite look as Clark when he gets caught. For a moment I thought he was going to shuffle his feet and apologize. I blinked. Who would have thought it?  
  
tbc… 


	6. Chapter 4: Lex

Chapter 4: Lex  
  
I took a step towards him. To do what I don't know. I felt sheepish and off balance something my real father hadn't inspired in me since I was ten. He'd thrown me a wild curve with his parental concern and I was fumbling with it. I opened my mouth but at that moment my heel slipped in the muck and before I could catch myself I ended up on my ass. I shifted and felt the mud/dirt sucking at me while I moved. The feeling reminded me vaguely of the time I went to a spa in the Alps and was subjected to a mud bath. I looked up when I heard a smothered snicker.  
  
"What are you laughing at?" I said pointedly irritated. Yet suddenly I a bark of laughter escaped my lips. That set Jonathan off all over again. "It's not funny!" I denied yet the mirth in my tone betrayed me. It's not. I sternly told myself. It didn't help any. Smothering my laughter I tried to get up and slipped again this time falling on my face. My face still in the mud the hilarity of it all hit me. This kind of thing only happens on T.V.! Pulling my face from the mud I glared at Jonathan who was doubled over laughing. Determined to get UP I ignored the inner me who was rolling around on the floor of my brain laughing said brain off I grabbed onto a stall door. I made it to my feet after slipping slash running on the slop like it was ice. Still holding onto the door, I wasn't taking any chances thank you, I looked down at my once expensive clothes no longer worth five bucks. God I must look a sight. Mud on my front and backsides AND on my face. I probably look like Halloween skeleton considering my hairless state. I looked up at Jonathan. He doesn't look much better. Streaks of dirt and mud covered him from head to toe. What a mess. I felt laughter bubbling up again. The whole thing just seemed to get funnier every second and Jonathan still hadn't stopped laughing. A few chuckles escaped and before I knew it I was leaning against the door laughing along with him.  
  
There were tears streaming down my face and a stitch in my side when I felt something warm settle over my shoulders. I stifled my normal reaction to sudden contact letting my laughter wash away the fear. "Come." (gasp) "On." (chuckle) "Let's go." (chuckle) "Inside." Momentarily I wondered what he was talking about. We were inside. Then he steered me to towards the house. I nodded unable to stop laughing. It felt so good. I couldn't find it in me to stop. Supporting each other we slipped and slid our way out of the barn. When my feet hit dry ground jolt ran through me. I'd never done anything like this with my father. I stopped walking. I stopped laughing. The pressure from Jonathan's arm disappeared but it barely registered. It felt like things were colliding together in my head smashing and making a big mess. Something was wrong. Maybe everything. This wasn't how things worked in my world. You never laughed for no reason.  
  
"Do you want to go in?" I looked up to find a sober Jonathan holding open the door. When did he stop laughing? I shook my head. Things were just so confusing. What's going on? That's what I came here to find out. I looked from Jonathan to the door. I had a feeling if I went through that door, if I put one foot over that threshold, things would be different and they'd never be able to go back. I thought about my life. The loneliness, the pain, and the way I had to hold myself even when no one else was around, and wondered briefly why I'd ever want them to. The casual friendship and laughter I'd found in that barn was more than I'd had in a long while. My life was full of so many dark shadows. It was funny, I hadn't really noticed til just now. Now when I realized that a bit of unexplainable laughter meant so much to me. I came here expecting to demand answers. If I go through that door I'll find them. I'm sure of it. But will I want them? After what had just happened I knew they were nothing like I was expecting. Jonathan's actions weren't fitting the customary pattern of either brown noser or blind hater. I can turn around and pretend this confusing but wonderful thing never happened. I can run back to the shadow filled life that I'm used to or I can stay confront the confusing truth. There was no contest. I'd never backed down from a challenge before I wasn't going to start now. I took a deep breath and walked straight ahead through the door Jonathan had patiently been holding for the past five minutes. 


	7. Chapter 5: Jonathan

Chapter 5: Jonathan  
  
For a while there I thought he was going to turn around and make a break for it. He looked scared, confused, and vulnerable. Very unlike the cool cultured man everyone usually sees. I wonder how many people are doped by that jaded mask. I know I was. Now that the mask lay broken on the floor I realized I was right. I had been judging him by the sins of his father. This wasn't a cruel and ruthless business man standing before me but a hurt young man trying to keep from getting hurt worse. His eyes held the look of an abused dog. Wanting so badly to be loved but scared that every giving hand was going to smack him. My tentative overture of friendship was being grasped like a drowning man would grasp a lifesaver and I found I didn't know what to say. I had to spill the beans but I was at a loss of how to go about it. Lex moved to sit at the counter and I suddenly comprehend that this was just another way I'd insulted him. He'd never sat at our table. It was a subtle way of saying "You don't belong". Only now I wanted Lex to fell he belonged. I wanted him right here where I could heal his hurt. Hurt I and others like me had caused. I grabbed his elbow intending to maneuver him over to the table. I saw him flinch at my touch and felt another wave of revulsion for Lionel Luthor. I would happily shot that man. I smiled to show him I meant no harm then let him go and pointed to the table.  
  
"Go ahead and sit son. I'm going to get us something to drink." I saw his eyes widen and cursed myself. I was going too fast. My protective instincts were at me to hug him and hold on til he knew he was capable of being loved but he wasn't Clark. He wasn't used to comforting gestures as the last few moments had shown. Trying to lighten the mood I said, "We've got everything but water at the moment." I turned to the fridge and started rummaging around. I heard a chair scrape against the floor and a quiet thud as Lex sat. "We've cranberry juice in here somewhere." I shied away from the milk. Too many memories.  
  
"I came to talk to you." Lex sounded hallow like he was talking from a far way away I stiffened but didn't turn around.  
  
"Yes." I made some noise moving things around so it didn't seem like I was hanging on his every word like I was.  
  
"I wanted to know. why?" I barely heard the question. It was so quiet. I felt my heart shudder. He sounded so wistful like nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Memories of Clark and I goofing off flashed through my mind. I really want to kill Lionel now.  
  
I stood there bent over for a moment then grabbed the milk with my grubby hands. It was good for revelations. I knew from experience. I placed it on the counter then started searching through the cabinets for glasses. Still not facing him I began. "My father was a bigot. He thought blacks were lazy useless people just because of who they happened to be born of." It hurt me to talk about it. I had loved my father for all his faults. "There was a black boy on the football team when I was Clark's age. Not listening to my father I gave him a chance. He became one of my best friends. Every time he'd come around my father would give him a hard time. It made me feel a lot like Clark must feel now." I turned around and handed him a glass of milk. He took it not really knowing what he was doing. I sat down across from him. "You are not like your father simply because you share the same genes and name. I've been acting far too much like my father for my liking. But I don't have to and don't want to. Just like my father still thought Tom was lazy even when he ran more yards than anyone else I kept seeing you a villain no matter what the evidence said. With what happened at the factory I couldn't keep fooling myself. Prejudice against blacks is something I've fought all my life I'm not about to let another type get me. Instead of assuming you must be like your father I'd very much like to find out what you are like. I'm deeply sorry for the way I've treated you. I want to start over." I took a deep breath at the end of my speech. It was up to Lex now. 


	8. Chapter 6: Lex

Chapter 6: Lex  
  
Oh. My. God. Never in my life would I have expected something like this happening. Jonathan. was giving me a chance? I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. I felt tiny shivers run through me at the end of it. No more expectations? All my life I've been living up to one or another. My father's ideal of a emotionless son. Other's idea of a rich brat. That one I had really lived up to. Could I really believe him? I looked into his eyes. All I saw was sadness and apology. He hasn't asked for anything either. That was a point toward him telling the truth. Still he could be setting up for later. But why?  
  
"I-I don't know what to think." I rubbed my forehead.  
  
"Then don't. Drink your milk." Milk? I looked down and sure enough milk. Well what could it hurt? I took a sip and almost spit it out. It'd been a looong time. I managed to swallow it.  
  
"It's.good." I had a feeling I wasn't selling it. Jonathan's smile clearly said, liar. In that smile I saw no pretenses only caring. I found myself saying, "You're forgiven."  
  
He straightened as if something had been lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you." A comfortable silence settled over us as I watched him finish his milk. I didn't touch mine again. I might have forgiven him, heaven knows why, but I wasn't going to drink his milk. "It's late." He startled my out of my half doze. "You'd better head home and catch some sleep." I nodded. Yeah, sleep. If I can. I got up and so did he. Jonathan followed me to the door and unexpectedly outside. I walked to my car and he kept walking. What the?  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
He laughed and I was reminded of what happened earlier. "To sleep in the hay. Martha isn't quite as forgiving at you." I watched him walk into the barn and shook my head. That man is every bit as strange as his son. 


End file.
